


dream (in a dream).

by ElysiumDreams



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Historical, Assassin!Jihoon, Korean Historical AU, Light Angst, M/M, Prince!Guanlin, Romance, a little steamy but nothing explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-05-27 23:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15035621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElysiumDreams/pseuds/ElysiumDreams
Summary: Park Jihoon is sent to the Lee Castle for one reason and one reason only: to kill the illegitimate prince Lai Guanlin before he can ascend to the crown.He never expects to fall in love with the prince in the process.





	1. the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Cries I've had this in my drafts for the longest time; the first chapter has just been complete, but I struggled to come up with something for the second chapter. I showed this to Penny and Ser because they were asking about it and they really motivated me to post it despite being unsatisfied with it the first time around ;; So I added a scene, and I'm currently drafting the second part, which will also be out soon! So please enjoy this two shot while I start writing my Panwink Week fics too uwu
> 
> Anyways the title comes from Ten's Dream in a Dream because it kind of has the vibe I'm going for? Maybe listen to that while you read :D
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Exquisite.

 

It’s one word to describe the immense beauty of Lee Palace, and as Jihoon stands before it, he’s almost overwhelmed by the sheer size and grandiose of it.

 

Jihoon has never stepped within a palace before. The closest he had ever gotten was when he had just been a young boy in the streets, desperate for a meal. The palace in question had seemed so inviting at the time, but the guards were not. At the sight of Jihoon’s then rather rugged appearance, he had been immediately removed from the property, left to starve in the slums for even longer than he had hoped.

 

But this is a new beginning, he thinks. He gathers up all the confidence he has, adjusting his sleek black robes before approaching the palace gates where several guards already stand, at the ready.

 

Jihoon watches as the guards’ faces twist with unfamiliarity. “Who are you?” they ask.

 

When he responds, Jihoon makes sure that his response is confident and believable. “I am Park Jihoon, the prince’s new consultant. If you could so kindly let me in.”

 

At his words, the guards send each other looks of confusion, as if this  _ new consultant  _ thing is something that’s completely new to them altogether. Before they can even speak, however, a figure approaches from the gate, and Jihoon knows exactly who it is before he can even speak.

 

“Lower your weapons,” the person says. At his words, the guards flinch before doing as they’re told. 

 

The person is tall, Jihoon finds. But he also has a rather handsome face, an authoritative one as well that makes the soldiers tremble under his gaze. As his figure approaches from beyond the gate, Jihoon bows too, a perfect 90 degree angle before rising once more.

“General Lee. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jihoon greets. The General grins slyly at him before beckoning for him to follow.

 

“Come along, Park Jihoon, we don’t have all day,” he says, not bothering to turn back. Jihoon isn’t bothered by his cold attitude, however, and he follows without hesitation, weary of the guards that stare him down as he enters the palace grounds.

 

General Lee’s expression is stoic and relaxed, as if he has no worries in the world. As Jihoon walks beside him, he finds himself wondering what he’s thinking, glancing over at him every so often. Finally, Jihoon brings himself to speak. “General Lee..”

 

“They’re just out of reach now, aren’t they?”

 

The General’s sudden speech takes Jihoon by surprise, and he quirks his brow at him. “Pardon..?”

 

“The guards,” General Lee continues. “You began to speak just as we escaped their range of hearing, correct? I like you, Park Jihoon…”

 

The smile of the General’s face does not go unnoticed; it is sly and menacing, but Jihoon feels nothing as he watches it appear. Rather, he hums softly, looking straight ahead. “I did sir. I felt the matters we need to discuss should not be in the company of others.”

 

General Lee smiles again. “Smart. So tell me, Park Jihoon, what makes you the most capable of carrying out this job? I’ve never seen a face like yours in this business before.”

 

“Exactly,” Jihoon replies as he steps along, bowing his head humbly. “People never expect me. That’s why it is so easy for me.” He doesn’t include the fact that he’s so nimble and skilled either; they’re both important, but Jihoon has found that his unexpectedness is what aids him most in carrying out his duties.

 

“Ah, well. I trust that you will do your job well, yes?” General Lee questions. 

 

Jihoon bows his head. “Yes, General Lee.”

 

“You may call me Jongsuk when we are alone,” he says. At this, Jihoon nods his head and caps the man by his name.  _ Jongsuk. _

 

Jongsuk grins, then lifts his head high once more. “Good boy.” 

 

The palace finally approaches, and Jihoon trains his eyes on the grand doors of its entrance. His heart only drops for a mere second before he collects himself once more, for Jihoon could not afford to be nervous with a job like this. Beside Jongsuk, Jihoon watches the palace doors open, welcoming them both in. It is then that the true purpose of his mission finally sinks in crystal clear.

 

Jihoon is going to kill the crown prince, Lai Guanlin.

 

—

 

_ “Lai Guanlin is an illegitimate child of the king, but because the king bore no true heirs before his untimely death, Guanlin was appointed to become king instead,”  _ Jongsuk had explained to Jihoon earlier as he toured him through the palace halls. So when Jihoon is finally brought before the crown prince in the throne room, he is expecting a child to be sat at the throne, one who is frightened and uncertain, unfamiliar with even simple mannerisms and powers that a king should possess.

 

He is surprised to find, however, that Prince Guanlin is actually far from any of this, however. The first thing Jihoon notices is his piercing gaze. Of course, when he enters, he immediately brings himself to bow, falling gently to his knees and pressing his forehead to the ground. It is only when the prince tells him to rise and look up at, and Jihoon immediately lets his eyes meet with the prince’s.

 

Rather than timid, Jihoon finds that Guanlin’s eyes are cold, unreadable, much like the expression on his face. Guanlin sits in his throne, but even under his miles of striking, elegant red robes, Jihoon can tell he’s tall. It’s only when he stands moments later that he fathoms just how tall the prince is, albeit, a little thin. He’s handsome too, Jihoon thinks, but his gaze is strong, nothing that Jihoon would have expected from an illegitimate child of the king, no less one at such a young age.

 

“Your highness,” Jihoon bows his head, folding his arms in front of him.

 

“I said look up at me,” the prince repeats, and Jihoon’s head immediately snaps back up. The prince doesn’t look away, and neither does Jihoon. It’s silent for a moment, and Jihoon wonders who will be the first to crack. “What is your name?” Guanlin finally asks.

 

“Park Jihoon.”

 

“General Lee brought you here, correct?” Guanlin questions. 

 

Jihoon nods in response. “Yes, your highness. I am to serve as your loyal consultant and advisor in all matters. I am a scholar, and my extensive knowledge will surely help you plan strategically as a king. I will help you to grow economically and politically, and help you gain status throughout the kingdoms.”

 

It’s all a lie, Jihoon knows. But his tone is convincing, and even Guanlin looks pleased with what he hears. “Jongsuk has made a fine decision… Very well,” he says quickly. “You shall be my new advisor. I look forward to working with you, Park Jihoon.”

 

With that, Guanlin then looks to one of the guards off to the side of the room. “Please show our guest to his quarters.” Then he looks back to Jihoon— “You will be living in the same quarters so long as you shall continue to work for me, understand?”

 

Jihoon nods softly as this. “Yes your highness.”

 

“Good,” Prince Guanlin smiles slyly. “Acquaint yourself with the castle. A dinner will be held later tonight, and I expect to see you there. You are dismissed.”

 

Guanlin ends coolly, and Jihoon can only think about just how wrong his expectations of the prince had been. As he makes his way to his room, he thinks of how the General’s description of the prince had led him to believe that he would be weak, a rather easy target, but Jihoon knows it’s not like that at all. Guanlin seems poised, smart, and Jihoon has to be careful here. He doesn’t want to get caught.

 

The guard that leads him to his room makes sure he’s comfortable before he leaves. He also explains that Prince Guanlin’s room is just one room over, should he need him for anything. Jihoon thanks the guard before he finally has the room to himself, not even bothering to inspect his surroundings.

 

Jihoon does not feel overwhelmed. He’s been in situations like these before plenty of times, and this is simply just another drop in the bucket. He has a plan of attack, and he’s determined to see it out. 

 

With the guard finally gone, Jihoon takes a seat on his bed; the blankets are plush and soft, but he pays them no mind, instead starts to roll up the bottom of his robes, then reaches towards his thigh; strapped there underneath the layers of clothing is a sharp dagger. The metal surface gleams as Jihoon tears it away from its casing, looking over it with wide eyes. 

 

This is the weapon he will use to kill the prince.

 

_ “He’s not suited to rule the kingdom,” _ Jongsuk has told him.

 

_ “And you? So you believe yourself more fit for the position then? Will you take over after the prince has fallen?” _

 

_ “That is none of your business. Just do your job,  _ assassin,  _ and you will be paid generously and free to move on from this place.” _

 

Assassin. 

 

The word burns itself into Jihoon’s brain, on to his skin like an invisible ink that cannot be removed. With each kill, it’s as if the ink penetrates deeper, as if the word itself has latched onto his entire being.

 

An assassin. He’s a good one, but that doesn’t mean that he likes what he does. It’s surprising, however, he had discovered, just how well something as malicious as taking someone’s life could be so rewarding. He hasn’t lived on the streets since picking up the profession, and he refuses to go back now, no matter how physically and mentally demanding the job gets. He’s gotten used to it anyways. His victims’ screams once tormented him… Not anymore.

 

Jihoon inspects the dagger a moment longer before deciding to hide it in the intricately decorated drawer beside his bed. It should be safe there for now, he thinks. After all, he doesn’t have to rush this. Jongsuk told him to take as much time as he needs, and Jihoon is patient. It would be better to kill the prince later than sooner, for fear of easily being found out as the new advisor to the prince.

 

With the dagger hidden, he finally allows himself to plop down on his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes with an exasperated sigh. He’s tired. The journey here had been long. 

 

The game can wait, he thinks. He just wants to sleep for now, and so he closes his eyes, allowing himself to slumber before the dinner party arrives.

 

—

 

Dinner is extravagant, Jihoon immediately finds as he is stand beside the throne with Guanlin, watching noblemen and ladies roam around the room. The sight is unfamiliar to Jihoon, but he still keeps his rather stoic and calm, simply observing as people continue to pass by.

 

“First event like this?” Guanlin suddenly questions. Jihoon steps out of his stupor, blinking for a few moments.

 

“Ah, me? Well… Truthfully yes…” He flushes softly, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. 

 

“I can’t tell,” the prince says with a quiet chuckle. “You’ll get used to it soon. I promise that palace life isn’t as harsh as it seems to be.” 

 

Jihoon hums in response. “Is that so, your highness? Well I look forward to settling in as soon as I can, then.”

 

He watches as the prince smiles. The sight is warm, and Jihoon can’t help but to stare a little longer than he is meant to. 

 

“I’ll put you to work tomorrow,” Guanlin says. “I have some things I’d like to discuss, but tonight.. Please do enjoy yourself. Eat and drink, okay?” 

 

It’s then that Guanlin plucks a grape from the tray beside him. The fruit is small between the prince’s long and thin fingers, and as he holds it up, Jihoon realizes what his intent is. His eyes widen in surprise; while Jihoon has not grown up a noble, he knows better than to let the  _ prince _ of all people feed him.

 

“Your highness, I don’t think I should—..”

 

“Are you refusing food from your prince?” Guanlin raises an eyebrow, and while Jihoon can tell the other is only joking, he still lowers his head humbly.

 

“I apologize, but… Would it not look bad were everyone to see you feeding your advisor? I mean I’m not…”

 

“ _ Jihoon,”  _ Guanlin interrupts firmly, catching him by surprise. He holds the grape up to him, lowering his eyes. “Eat.”

 

Jihoon looks out at the crowd then. Most people mind their business, too immersed in their own conversations to care. Still, he can’t help but feel like there are people who are watching, people who would scrutinize him for even daring to take food from the prince, let alone allow him to feed him. Even an assassin like him feels the pressure settle in.

 

Still, Guanlin is insisting. When he looks up, the prince’s eyes are cool, and it’s obvious that he refuses to take no for an answer. So, obediently he leans down, and Guanlin lifts his hand. Jihoon parts his lips, and the prince places the fruit on his tongue. He thinks it’s over then, but then Guanlin runs his index finger down Jihoon’s bottom lip, dragging it down as if feeling the plump weight of it under his touch.

 

Jihoon shudders. His cheeks grow hot, the prince’s gesture leaving him rather flustered. The prince however, does not seem to be bothered in the slightest, turning back around in his throne to observe the court before him. Then Jihoon watches the smirk that spreads over Guanlin’s lips.

 

—

 

The rest of the night goes smoothly; if anyone has noticed the prince feeding him earlier, no one says a thing, even as he goes to familiarize himself with other members of the royal court. Amongst the most memorable is a noble named Ong Seongwoo that approaches him. He’s rather good looking, Jihoon thinks, and though he carries much prestige, Jihoon doesn’t doubt that he is also quite smart. He makes small talk with Jihoon that makes him feel comfortable, keeps him company until the night comes to an end.

 

When it’s finally time to retire to his quarters, Jihoon diligently prepares for bed. He hadn’t realized just how long and tiring his day had been until now, as he dresses himself in sleeping robes, peels the sheets off his mattress and readies himself to finally lie down and get some rest.

 

Just then, there’s a knock on his door.

 

Jihoon wants to ignore it, but he thinks on his first day on the job, it’s probably not a good idea. Still, he’s cautious, and rather than opening up immediately, Jihoon instead presses his ear to the door, listening for any suspicious sounds. When there’s nothing, he finally speaks. “Who’s there?”

 

“It’s me, Advisor Park.”

 

Jihoon blinks. Jongsuk.

 

Carefully, he slides door open and allows the other in. Jongsuk has a rather unsettling grin on his face, and as he stands there, Jihoon invites him in, closing the door behind him.

 

“You has a rather exciting day, I take it?” Jongsuk asks. Jihoon sits as the other speaks, legs dangling off the top steps of the bed.

 

“It was alright I suppose…” Jihoon responds, averting the other’s gaze.

 

“You seemed rather eager to allow Prince Guanlin to feed you.”

 

It’s then that Jihoon looks up abruptly. He feels like a deer caught in the headlights, mouth hung open as he tries to explain. “No, it wasn’t like that…”

 

Jongsuk laughs at his obvious discomfort. “Relax, I’m only teasing. But you may want to be careful. You never know who’s watching.”

 

At that, Jihoon scoffs a little. “And then what? Am I to be executed for allowing the prince to feed me? Don’t be silly.”

 

“Perhaps,” Jongsuk says. His tone is mocking somehow, and Jihoon can’t help but to feel weary around him. “Well, I’m just stopping by to check on you, see that you’ve settled well. I’ll be taking my leave now. Goodnight, Advisor Park.”

 

Jihoon roses and bows politely, nodding General Lee a good night. As the other exits, he watches as he closes the door behind him, letting the footsteps pass before he finally allows himself to relax.

 

Jihoon isn’t afraid of Jongsuk. Not one bit. But he knows that one slip up, and Jongsuk will not hesitate to remove him from the task at hand. The worry is burdensome enough, and in his wary state, he decides to call it a night, tucking himself into bed and blowing out the lantern at his bedside table. 

 

Things are certain to turn upside down in the coming weeks. 

 

—

 

The first rule of an assassin is to never get close to your target.

 

This rule is self-explanatory; personal relationships with the target often result in failure of a mission, and Jihoon has witnessed it happen multiple times to coworkers. Sympathy is a weakness, he thinks, and it’s because of that weakness that his coworkers had failed their missions and lost their lives in the process.

 

Jihoon has sworn to never be like that. He’s not emotionless, of course. But emotions are easy to conceal, especially for someone like him, who’s spent a good majority of his life pretending. Personal relationships just get in the way anyways.

 

But it’s hard not to get close to Guanlin, especially when he’s by his side nearly 24/7.

 

Guanlin is not needy. Jihoon finds that the prince is much more knowledgeable of court procedures and other economic and political issues than Jongsuk had believed him to. Jihoon wonders if it’s perhaps a disagreement in his policies that’s truly the issue, rather than simple incompetency on the prince’s behalf.

 

Advising the prince is not what’s hard. Guanlin is smart and knows what he wants. The hard part comes when after every session, Guanlin invites Jihoon over to his chambers to…  _ quietly  _ enjoy their downtime, Guanlin has worded it.

 

Jihoon prefers to be alone. His refusal is blatant at first, but the prince is rather persuasive, and Jihoon finds himself lounging on a chaise in Guanlin’s luxurious room while the prince himself takes off his heavy robes for the day.

 

It begins with small talk. Jihoon hates small talk, because it’s the first step that leads to attachment. But Guanlin asks him simple things, if he likes it in the palace, or if he likes cats or dogs, or what he did before coming to the palace. Conversations are awkward at first, but they quickly become more comfortable, and Jihoon finds pleasure in his daily chats with the younger man.

 

From there, it’s Guanlin’s laugh. Jihoon had long decided that, other than his baby-faced appearance, Guanlin did not lack a single characteristic to make him a good king. As a result, he had often forgotten that Guanlin is a  _ sixteen  _ year old boy. Younger than he is, probably the youngest king that he would ever meet. 

 

When Guanlin’s loud and squeaky laughter erupts that Jihoon remembers just how young Prince Guanlin is. The realization makes him want to protect him, rather than kill him like he’s mean to.

 

And that’s apparently all it takes for Jihoon to second guess his task here; small talk and a lively laughter, a beautiful face perfected with a bright smile.

 

There’s one night in particular that Jihoon recalls after a long day of work. After shuffling through perhaps hundreds of scrolls, he decides to reward himself with a nice, hot bath, a trip to the hot springs near the west halls of the castle. 

 

It’s dark, only stars illuminating the skies. Jihoon steps out in a thin robe, eager to unwind after such an unnecessarily stressful day. He needs alone time to clear his mind, yet when he arrives he immediately finds that he has company, and not the kind that he had at all been anticipating.

 

Prince Guanlin sits peacefully in the bath, skin flushed as he relaxes in its warm waters. He has his head thrown back, leaning it against the rocks that surround the perimeter, and he soft, cherry red lips are parted ever so slightly, humid air escaping past them.

 

He wonders if Guanlin’s day has been just as busy as his own, if he’s been bombarded with request after request, all kinds of nobles attacking him with their prospects and offers for only god knows what. Perhaps that’s why he’s lounging here, instead of his own personal baths, surrounded by maids to keep him company, if he’s just gotten tired of all of the people. Jihoon knows the feeling.

 

The thought makes him think that maybe he should leave as well, allow the prince his precious alone time while he can. Yet Jihoon cannot stop staring; he watches the gently rise and fall of Guanlin’s chest, the way he breathes so softly and quietly. The light sheen of sweat on his forehead slides down his temple, and his thick lashes fan over his cheeks. He’s beautiful, Jihoon thinks, and he cannot tear his eyes away.

 

_ Leave,  _ he tells himself. This is becoming a dangerous game, and Jihoon knows it. It’s best to leave now, before Guanlin notices him, and—

 

“Advisor Park?”

 

Guanlin’s voice calls out to him, and Jihoon freezes in his spot. He looks over at the prince again, and sure enough, his eyes are wide open, staring at him curiously. The handsome, elegant prince that had sat before him only second before had suddenly transformed into a childlike, wondrous being, and how such a feat could even occur, Jihoon is too baffled to understand.

 

“Your highness,” Jihoon stutters, boeing politely. “I apologize for interrupting your bath. I’ll be going now to allow you your privacy.”

 

He prepares to leave then, turning on his heel when Guanlin calls out to him again, voice much firmer this time. “No,” he says, and Jihoon stops in his tracks. “Stay here. Come bathe with me, Advisor.”

 

_ Bathe with me. _ The mere thought makes Jihoon’s skin flush, and it’s not even because of the heat that surrounds them. Rather, it’s the prince’s words, the situation that he’s somehow found himself in. He’s not sure if this moment is a good thing or not, yet he is in no position to refuse the prince’s offer. In fact, he has often found such an idea quite fruitless— Guanlin has countlessly had him right where he wants him.

 

Shyly, the assassin strips off his robes. As they are discarded, fluttering to the ground beneath him, he steps gently into the pool of hot water, toes first, then his legs, the rest of his body as he sits opposite from Guanlin, as far away as he possibly can. There is sizeable space between them, yet Jihoon still feels too close, like this moment is too intimate for his liking.

 

“You worked hard today, yes?” Guanlin asks. Jihoon looks up at him, and the second he meets his strong gaze, he has to look away. Mentally, he slaps himself. What’s wrong with him that he cannot even address his prince so directly, even after all this time?

 

“Advisor?”

 

Jihoon snaps out of his stupor again; Guanlin is looking at him firmly now, eyebrow raised as he sits relaxed against the rocks. “I asked a question.”

 

“Oh—…” Jihoon blushes. “I did, your highness. I was hoping to find take a hot bath and get some rest, I didn’t mean to disrupt yours.”

 

“It’s fine,” Guanlin laughs. His smiles peeks from behind his lips, and Jihoon feels his heart do funny things in his chest. Such unacceptable behavior, yet he can’t seem to keep himself contained. “Are you enjoying yourself, then? Here, in the springs, I mean.”

 

For a moment, he ponders the question before responding. “It’s quite nice. It’s taken some of my stress away.”  _ Some,  _ he says, because one of the sources of his stress sits right before him, so vulnerable and open, and yet Jihoon cannot find it in him to do what he has been tasked to do. 

 

“Some?” Guanlin repeats. “Why not all? Is there something I can help you with, Advisor?”

 

Jihoon blinks, then shakes his head. “Not at all, your highness. I am enjoying myself very much, just… I don’t believe it possible for this place to take  _ all  _ of my stress away,” he explains. He does feel quite calm, however. The warm water has finally gotten to his head, and his body feels sluggish and weightless, like he could float away like this if he truly wanted to. It’s only his mind that weighs him down, and as the prince stares at him, he only feels as if he’s being weighed further and further down.

 

Across from him, Guanlin snorts. “Of course they can, you’re just experiencing it all wrong. Come over here.”

 

Guanlin beckons to himself, and it’s like an entire ball and chain has been attached to his foot, dragging him down to the ocean’s floor. The air nearly leaves his chest as he blinks at the other in confusion. “Y-Your highness?” he stutters for clarity.

 

“It’s not an order,” Guanlin explains. “But I’d like it if you joined my side.”

 

Jihoon stiffens at that.  _ No,  _ his mind immediately tells him. For he knows if he crosses the imaginary line he’s drawn between them, then Jihoon will have crossed a line he knows he should not have, a very dangerous, tempting fate awaiting him should he choose to go. But Guanlin is Guanlin— he is ethereal,  _ glowing,  _ tips of black hair wet with water. Jihoon finds himself wading towards him in no time, with no time to even think or inspect the proposition any further.

 

When he arrives at his side however, Guanlin does not just simply pull him to his side. No; the king brings Jihoon into his lap, sitting him comfortably there and illiciting a surprised gasp from the assassin’s mouth. Guanlin is stronger than expected, and even if he had wanted to break free, he finds that the younger’s arms around his waist are wrapped snuggly there, keeping him in place.

 

“Relax, will you? I am simply… Making this experience more enjoyable for you,” Guanlin explains.

 

Enjoyable. Jihoon cannot doubt that it is so, yet he cannot help but feel that this is wrong. An advisor should not lay with the kind like this, and an  _ assassin  _ certainly should not either, yet as time passes, Jihoon finds himself melting into the younger’s touch. Guanlin’s lithe, thin fingers press softly against Jihoon’s hips, and as Jihoon rests his head against his shoulder, he rests a hand on his abdomen, the other reaching to hold his hand in his. 

 

This is wrong… So wrong, and yet Jihoon does not want it to go away. The prince’s lips meet the fleshy, tanned expanse of skin upon his neck, and as he leaves it exposed, he peppers kisses along his skin that make the assassin’s head spin, and definitely not because of the heat of the water. Guanlin has simply stolen his breath away with the simplest of touches, and softest of kisses.

 

“Guanlin….” Jihoon whispers, dropping his formalities. Guanlin does not care.

 

“Shh,” he whispers. “I have you.”

 

If he is caught, he knows things will not end well. Yet somehow, he knows that as Guanlin holds him close, the other will not let harm come their way. He hums softly, and for a brief, brief sliver of time, Jihoon feels every fiber of stress and anxiety leave his body, as he’s left in the firm hold of his prince, Lai Guanlin. 

 

—

 

And then comes Guanlin’s coronation.

 

The days leading up to the event are stressful; amongst political matters, Guanlin is all over the place, whether it’s getting his robes fitted or approving of decorations. Jihoon does his best to take up as many tasks as possible, so the weight on Guanlin’s shoulders is less heavy. 

 

They don’t talk about the hot springs. Neither of them bring it up, and almost everything from this point forward seems to be strictly business, planning for the coronation. Jihoon is good at masking his emotions, yet there is still a twinge of pain that lingers at the thought of Guanlin kissing his skin one day, holding him in his arms, to acting as if he is a mere servant the next. Jihoon sets those feelings aside for now; there are much more important matters to handle at this point.

 

He doesn’t realize just how much he’s neglected his true purpose, not until Jongsuk steps in, pulling Jihoon aside in the midst of his schedules.

 

“ _ What are you doing,”  _ Jongsuk seethes through his teeth as he corners Jihoon in a quiet hallway, pressing him up against a wall. Jihoon is not frightened, he had been aware of someone following him throughout the palace for some time, but he hadn’t expected it to be Jongsuk. 

 

“General…” Jihoon says, flustered. “I’m doing my duties as the prince’s advisor..? Is there something else I should be doing…?”

 

“It’s been nearly a month. Assassinations are not supposed to take this long. I told you to take your time but this is too much.” Jongsuk narrows his eyes at him, and Jihoon furrows his brows. He has half the mind to shove him away, but instead he keeps his composure, voice low as he responds: “I would appreciate if you had patience with me, General. I’m trying to be certain that if the prince is to die, the blame won’t immediately be pushed onto myself. I would like to get out of this alive too, you know.” 

 

Despite his cool tone, his words are infuriating; Jongsuk growl before taking a fistful of Jihoon’s hair into his hands and giving it a firm tug. Jihoon gasps in surprise, and Jongsuk leans in, whispering venomously, “ _ No,  _ what you’re doing is stalling. I’m not stupid, Park Jihoon. I’ve watched the way you work, and you are not the same person you are when you entered this palace. You’ve grown attached.”

 

At that, Jihoon tightens his fist. He looks up at Jongsuk, staring him straight in the eyes as he speaks, “I have  _ not  _ grown attached.”

 

“Then do your job.” Jongsuk’s words are harsh, and they’re all he leaves Jihoon with before shoving him roughly against the wall again, then paces off in the other direction without a proper goodbye. Jihoon doesn’t need one though. He groans over the ache in his back as he watches Jongsuk wall away, anger still fuming within him. 

 

Because as much as Jihoon wants to say that Jongsuk is wrong, he knows that he is right: he’s become too attached to Guanlin. 

 

It’s an assassin’s weakness, and Jihoon does not want to admit that he’s succumbed to it. He’s always been so clean at his job, able to kill as if though killing was just like ripping off a bandage— quick and easy.

 

But Guanlin makes it hard. He indeed regrets getting so close to the king-to-be, as now, he is in a much more difficult situation than anticipated. Jihoon has to kill Guanlin, it’s his job, the entire reason he’s even here in the first place. But as much as he wishes to fulfill his duties, Jihoon does not want to go forward with the task, and that’s where he finds his head and his heart at odds.

 

He does not have the luxury of making a decision here, however. In a situation like this, Jihoon knows there’s only one thing he can do.

 

Guanlin has to die.

 

— 

 

“Help me fasten this, will you?”

 

At Guanlin’s words, Jihoon looks up suddenly. Guanlin is holding the ends of his belt, looking at him expectantly. The advisor blinks before rising, helping the prince to secure it properly around his waist.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to have servants for this kind of thing?” Jihoon jokes as he tightens it properly, then steps aside to inspect his handiwork.

 

“Yes, he goes by the name Park Jihoon,” Guanlin teases back, and Jihoon just gasps, feigning offense at his words. “I’m just kidding.”

 

“I’m not your servant,” Jihoon laughs, rolling his eyes. As his focus lands on Guanlin again, he takes his time to inspect just how regal and elegant Guanlin looks like this. With his tall height and slender body, baby face and soft lips, Jihoon has always thought the prince to be a rather ideal image of beauty. But when he’s like this, dressed in the finest silks and cloths, Guanlin doesn’t even look human. He looks heavenly, ethereal; the red robes bring out the rosy complexion in his cheeks, compliment his bright skin. And though they’re so big that they swallow him up somewhat, he still appears so wonderfully that Jihoon cannot help but gape at the sight before him.

 

“It is rude to stare, Advisor Park,” Guanlin hums. 

 

Jihoon breaks his gaze then, shaking his head in response. “I apologize, your highness. I was just appreciating how becoming you look tonight. Truly fit to become a king…” he swallows hard, lowering his eyes as he speaks.

 

Guanlin laughs softly, a slight grin upon his lips. “You don’t have to flatter me, you know. I know how you feel.”

 

At that, Jihoon blinks in confusion. “What…?”

 

“Never mind,” Guanlin automatically responds. “Lets just get going, the coronation begins soon.”

 

Guanlin starts heading out then, and after a moment of hesitation, Jihoon follows, bowing his head as he follows the nobility. It’s only when they’re in the hallway, passing by his own quarters that he stops abruptly, freezing on the spot. Guanlin stops too, looking back at him in confusion. “Everything alright, Advisor Park?”

 

Jihoon nods slowly, then looks up at Guanlin, offering a sincere smile so he does not draw suspicion to himself for his strange behavior. “I’m fine. I just believe I’ve forgotten to put out the lantern in my room. Forgive me, I’ll join you momentarily.”

 

With that, Jihoon slips into his room, slowly shutting the door behind him. He paces over to his bed, crouching over his bedside drawer before pulling out the dagger that sits there, all by itself. Carefully, he lifts his robes; the band is already around his thigh, all he needs to do is place the dagger back where it belongs.

 

He slides the dagger into its proper place, making sure it’s secure before he smooths his robes out again. Once he’s done, he finally heads back out, rejoining Guanlin who has been waiting patiently for him in the hallway. The prince greets him with a smile.

 

“I apologize for the delay, your highness.” Jihoon bows his head again.

 

“No need to apologize… Shall we go?” Guanlin beckons for him to follow him, and without missing a beat, Jihoon steps in line, making his way through the palace with the prince.

 

The dagger secured to his thigh makes every step he takes feel ten times heavier. 

 

—

 

The entire coronation ceremony is grand; there are thousands of guests, citizens and nobles alike all gathered in the large courtyard of the palace to watch as Guanlin is finally crowned king. Jihoon’s never witnessed a spectacle such as this before, but he’s certain nothing compares to how royal and elegant Guanlin looks in this moment.

 

Despite his illegitimate lineage, Guanlin looks as if he had been born for the crown, Jihoon thinks. With his upright posture, robes that create rivers of red, and the glorious music that fills the air, Guanlin truly looks like a king, and Jihoon feels something tighten in his chest at the sight.

 

He’s only been by Guanlin’s side for a month, yet still, there’s pride in seeing the other like this… Sadness in knowing that it would not last long.

 

Jihoon knows that the dagger around his leg is properly concealed in its holster, but it somehow feels as if though the sharp tip digs into his skin, like guilt carving into the meaty flesh. His chest aches, and as the coronation’s festivities carry on, Jihoon feels himself sink more and more in his own misery.

 

While the guests feast, Jihoon stands beside Guanlin’s throne again; Guanlin has told him to enjoy himself again, but Jihoon likes it best when he’s near to the newly-crowned king.

 

Then, out of the corner of his eye, lurking in the corner of the courtyard is a familiar face.

 

Jongsuk is staring darkly at him, anticipating and expecting his next moves.

 

Jihoon swallows. He’s killed plenty of people before… Many of them without hesitation. But Guanlin… Jihoon is afraid that he cannot do it, no matter how much he wishes he could. 

 

But Jongsuk is glaring daggers in his direction; Jihoon has to act soon if he wants to get this over with quickly.

 

“Your majesty…” Jihoon addresses. Guanlin turns to look at him; his eyes sparkle, Jihoon notices. Excitement. Relief. Happiness. Jihoon sees them all swimming in the king’s eyes, as if he’s finally glad to be sitting in his throne, presiding over all of these people. The look absolutely devastates Jihoon, especially as he offers a smile in his direction.

 

“Yes, Advisor Park? What is it?”

 

Jihoon does his best to not appear bothered. “May we speak privately? There is something I wish to discuss with you..”

 

Guanlin doesn’t question him one bit. He stands and nods at Jihoon before beckoning him to follow him, as if he had been the one to ask Jihoon to speak with him privately. Perhaps that is one luxury of being so close to the king, is that Guanlin trusts him, even when he knows himself not to be trusted.

 

Guanlin leads him to a study; it’s kept nice and tidy, with scrolls all organized into place. It’s not the brightest place, he thinks, but it’ll do. Behind them, Guanlin shuts the door, and Jihoon immediately prepares himself for attack. There is absolutely no time to waste, lest he change his mind in the process.

 

Before Guanlin can turn back around, Jihoon swiftly draws his dagger from its holster and aims it straight at the king’s throat, and when he turns around to face him, the sharp weapon practically pokes at his skin. His body freezes in place, but he otherwise makes no reaction of shock or surprise.

 

Jihoon holds the dagger there, waiting for fear, anxiety, any of those emotions to cross Guanlin’s face. 

 

Instead, Guanlin smiles at him.

 

“I was beginning to think that you didn’t have the guts to do it, Park Jihoon.” 

 

Jihoon sucks in a breath then; as Guanlin’s eyes meet his, they widen in confusion, his grip on his dagger faltering as his hand shakes. 

 

“W-what..?” Jihoon stutters.

 

Guanlin raises a brow. “You think I didn’t know?” The king stares at him momentarily before scoffing and shaking his head. When he brings his hand up to lower Jihoon’s weapon, the assassin doesn’t even protest. He’s still so stricken with shock, staring at Guanlin with his dark eyes. “How many people have you killed, Jihoon? One? Two?  _ Hundreds?  _ I don’t really know, but it baffles me how obvious you could be this entire time.”

 

Jihoon purses his lips, and eventually he looks down, unable to meet the other’s gaze. Guanlin is right, an assassination from someone as skilled as he should not have taken so long. He feels incompetence settle in, as well as a sense of disappointment in himself, only rubbed in like salt into his wounds as the king, his intended target calls him out on his fault himself.

 

“What gave it away..?” Jihoon asks, still staring at the ground. 

 

“Other than how nervous and flustered you always were? Well… A maid had gone into your room during a conference on foreign affairs. She found your dagger, and she showed it to me, but I told her to put it back where she had found it.” 

 

_ Ah,  _ Jihoon sighs softly. Of course. He had been careless, and such a small action had blown his cover. His fingers tighten around his dagger, not out of anger, but in his frustration, as he thinks about his failure.

 

“I could just tell as well.”

 

At that, Jihoon looks up suddenly. “.. What do you mean?”

 

Guanlin’s eyes still look so cold and fearless; Jihoon can’t believe how the tables have turned. He doesn’t believe Guanlin is going to do anything rash, but still, there’s a sense of uneasiness at not having the upper hand.

 

“Your eyes. When you first walked into this palace, your eyes were not wavering, not eager to work like any advisor would be. Rather they were cold, like you had a reason for being here, and those reasons were not ones with good intentions,” Guanlin explains. “But then you changed. You no longer looked at me like that, so I wondered just exactly what was going on… Then I figured it out.”

 

As Guanlin speaks, Jihoon lowers his head in shame: “You fell in love with me, am I correct?”

 

The words hit Jihoon hard. It’s something he’s known for a while now, but only as Guanlin speaks them into fruition does Jihoon realize the truth behind them. This is not just simple attachment at play; from the moment he had met him, their time at the hot springs, up until now, and every moment in between… Jihoon has truly fallen for his king. 

 

He stays silent. It’s only with Guanlin reaches out and tilts his chin up does he finally meet the king’s eyes again. They’re still unreadable, whereas his own waver slightly. He wonders who is truly the assassin in this situation.

 

“Answer your king,” Guanlin states. His voice is demanding and firm.

 

But Jihoon is stubborn, and does not want to give in so easily, even when Guanlin has him right where he wants him to be. “No. You’re wrong, your majesty.”

 

Guanlin raises his brow then. “Oh? Is that so? Then--..” The king reaches down this time, his hand curling around Jihoon’s fist. Jihoon furrows his brows in confusion, and it’s only when Guanlin takes his dagger and points it right at his own heart, holding it into place does Jihoon finally understand. “If that is true, then kill me now.” 

 

Jihoon’s pupils shake, and it’s only because of Guanlin’s strong grip that the dagger even stays put into his hand. He stares wide-eyed at the young king, frozen into place.

 

When Guanlin lets go of his hand, the dagger clatters to the floor.

 

A moment of silence follows; Jihoon feels shame rising up and flushing his cheeks, even though Guanlin does not at all scrutinize him with his words. The shame instead comes from how badly Jihoon knows he’s failed; not only has he fallen in love with Guanlin, but he’s failed his mission to kill him too. Jihoon can’t help but to mentally berate himself for them fact, staring down at the floor.

 

“Look at me.”

 

The voice that speaks is powerful, and it compels Jihoon to look up. Before he can even blink, Lai Guanlin brings a hand underneath his chin again, tilting it up before he’s suddenly pushing him back. Any other person, and Jihoon’s instinct would kick in, and he wouldn’t hesitate to attack. But Guanlin renders him helpless; the king pins him against the wall, his eyes wide open in shock right as the king does the unthinkable and presses his lips right on to Jihoon’s.

 

The sensation that climbs up Jihoon’s spine is incredible; it’s as if his entire body has been set alight, and the flame that is responsible for such a feat is no other than King Lai Guanlin himself. As he lips mold against his, Jihoon slowly finds himself relaxing into the feeling. This… This is what he’s wanted for weeks now, but has been forbidden to touch. In the end, however, the temptation had been too sweet, and Jihoon had succumbed.

 

Guanlin makes Jihoon feel like a melting candle, as if he’ll melt away into nothing the longer he keeps his lips on his. His own hands find it way around Guanlin’s waist, and the king uses the thumb on his chin to draw Jihoon’s lips open, his slick tongue pressing into his mouth.

 

Jihoon can taste the wine on the younger’s tongue. It is rich and sweet, but all he cares for is the taste of Guanlin on his mouth, as he deepens the kiss, makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His fingers itch to touch underneath the king’s thick robes, and just as he reaches to undo the knot he has tied earlier, a hand suddenly comes to his, keeping him from doing so.

 

When he looks up, Guanlin has pulled away, and is look back at him cheekily. “No. Or else you’ll have to tie it for me again.”

 

Jihoon laughs at that, but he pulls away, sheepishly wiping at his swollen lips. “It’s a small price to pay,” he replies as Guanlin pulls away too. An awkward silence hangs in the air for a moment before Jihoon breaks it again. “Your highness..?”

 

“Yes, Jihoon?” Guanlin speaks firmly. It’s the first time Guanlin calls him by name, and his whole heart soars. 

 

“.. What does this make us?”

 

At that, Guanlin ponders a bit, then finally looks up at Jihoon, a smile wide over his soft lips. “… You are a very special person for me.”

 

The words make the assassin’s stomach churn, but in a good way. Jihoon feels relieved; there is one issue out of the way now. But there is still another that has yet to be discussed, one last thing that plagues his thoughts, and Guanlin, as well, is curious to know.

 

“May I know who sent you to kill me?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finished! Originally, I wasn't going to update this fic for a while, but I made a promise on Twitter that if Panwink did a VLIVE together, then I would update all of my fics this week so... Here is you first update! Hopefully all of my other fics will be updated this week as well!
> 
> Please enjoy this update!
> 
> WARNINGS: character death, violence, blood.

“Everything is going to plan, General.”

 

The words slide off of Jihoon’s tongue with ease, his arms folded behind him as he bows shamelessly, staring at his feet. Before him, the General of the Lee palace stands, esteemed and proud, staring down at the young assassin with an amused look on his face.

 

“To plan?” he inquires. “Then you mean to tell me that you meant to take this long to kill the king? Do not keep me waiting any longer, Advisor Park, I’m starting to doubt your intentions.”

 

Jihoon stands straight then, staring Jongsuk straight in the eye with a confidence that he has never executed before. He is firm in his words as he nods, a mischievous grin painted over his lips. “Precisely, it has been the plan all along. I have the king exactly where I want him, so you needn’t worry. A week is all I need.”

 

Jongsuk raises his brow then. “And where is it that you want him?”

 

The assassin laughs then, a smirk lingering on his lips as he answers. “The king is a fool, and only fools fall in love, General Lee.”

 

—

 

If there is anything Jihoon hates more about disguising himself as an advisor, it’s all the work that needs to be put into the job. Jihoon is good at it, but it doesn’t mean that it’s not tiring, much more than he had been anticipating to do than when he had first been suggested for this mission. And after yet another long conference with esteemed members of the king’s court, Jihoon finds himself exhausted, his robes hanging off his shoulders as he lies in his bed, an arm thrown over his eyes as he takes a brief moment to relax. 

 

Brief, he reminds himself. When he opens his eyes, shiny metal flints and sparkles under a ray of sun that penetrates through the curtains. Jihoon turns then, and sitting on his bedside table is his dagger, still not having shed any blood since his arrival at the palace.

 

Curiously, Jihoon reaches over, picking up the weapon and holding it between his hands. One hand holds the handle, the other hand he pokes his index finger against the tip of the blade, allowing it to dig into his skin without actually piercing and drawing blood. He stares long and hard, as if he is in a trance, reflection staring back at him through the blade’s shiny surface.

 

Somehow, he is hypnotized, and cannot look away.

 

It’s only when a voice breaks through the silence that Jihoon finally blinks, turning over to the door where the voice had been heard. 

 

“Are you trying to seduce me, Advisor Park?”

 

Guanlin’s voice is amused and teasing, and as he approaches him in bed, his elegant robes drag across the floor, a regal yet beautiful smile adorning his full and perfect lips. Jihoon stares at them before he sets the dagger down, sitting up in bed. His robes fall further off his shoulders, revealing the pale expanse of Jihoon’s collarbones, a small bit of chest peeking through, too. The assassin’s ears turn red, and he laughs awkwardly. “It wasn’t intentional…”

 

“I don’t believe you,” the king responds. He sits beside Jihoon then, a hand brushing at his shoulder before he leans down and drags his lips against it, pressing the softest kiss against his neck. Jihoon shudders at the sensation. 

 

“My king,” he keeps himself from stuttering. “To what do I owe this pleasure of having you in my room so late at night?”

 

Guanlin hums then, as if pondering, but he knows that the king is already certain of what he wants, Jihoon is just waiting to hear the words. “Mmmm, I wish to discuss something with you in a more… Private environment. Do you think you can come with me tonight?”

 

Jihoon stares then. Though he speaks so politely and courteously, the king’s eyes tell a much different story than what his lips speak, come with a warning, one that Jihoon reads clear as day.

 

They are being watched.

 

It does not take a trained assassin to know that within palace walls, it is absolutely foolish to trust anyone but yourself. After nearly a month of living in a place, Jihoon has certainly learned to tell who is on his side and who is not. The lines, however, are thinly blurred, and he knows that if he truly wants to survive, he knows that he should not trust a single soul, not even those who he believes to be on his side.

 

He thinks of his own words to Jongsuk, that only a fool would fall in love in a situation like this. Jihoon must be more than a fool however, for not only falling in love with Guanlin, but trusting him too.

 

Still, he doesn’t falter at Guanlin’s words. He nods in agreement, adjusting his robes so they no longer hang off his shoulders. “Shall I meet you in the gardens later tonight?”

 

Guanlin smiles in satisfaction. “That sounds splendid, Advisor Park. I’ll see you then.”

 

“Wait.”

 

Just as he’s about to leave, Jihoon calls for him, and Guanlin stops suddenly, turning back to the advisor. He bites his lip softly before reaching out for the dagger on his table, gripping the handle in as he runs his fingers over it once more. He stares down at the weapon, and he can feel Guanlin’s eyes on it to. Finally, he looks up at the king, holding the weapon out to him with a soft smile on his face.

 

“I want you to hold on to this,” he hums. “In case you might ever need it.”

 

Guanlin blinks at him them in confusion. His eyes flash from Jihoon to the dagger, then back again. He looks so uncertain, but eventually, he reaches out, carefully taking the dagger from Jihoon’s hand into his. He holds it carefully, as if it’ll break if he drops it. Then he offers a small smile up at Jihoon, eyes sparkling gratefully.

 

“Thank you, Jihoon.”

 

Jihoon smiles then too, a flush coloring over his cheeks. “Don’t mention it.”

 

Guanlin ticks the dagger away then, offering one last smile in the advisor’s direction. He leaves then without another word, and Jihoon watches his back, until the very moment that the door closes behind him. 

 

As promised, Jihoon meets him later that night in the gardens. The guards posted near his room ask what business he has out so late, but Jihoon merely claims that he’s going out for a stroll to clear his mind.

 

The gardens are beautiful in the day, but so much more magical in the moonlight. The small ponds glisten with stars, and as crickets chirp, flowers sleep and whisper quietly with the wind. Jihoon meets Guanlin under the gazebo— he knows it’s the king’s favorite spot when he needs a breath of fresh air.

 

What is most noticeable about Guanlin when he arrives is the deep blue cloak that he adorns. It looks soft, satin fabric blowing with the breeze. A hood hangs from the neck, but Guanlin doesn’t wear it over his head. It’s curious attire for a king, Jihoon must admit.

 

“My king,” Jihoon greets when he arrives, giving a small bow. If it were anyone else, Jihoon would perhaps drop the formalities. But he has respect for the younger and his title, and dares not challenge it despite his status as an assassin.

 

Guanlin however, finds this amusing. He laughs as he turns to Jihoon, tilting his chin up carefully. “You needn’t greet me as such. Just Guanlin will do.”

 

Jihoon hums. “Guanlin, then. What would you like to discuss tonight?”

 

At this, Guanlin chuckles. “You’re so eager. Don’t you wish to enjoy this night first? It’s especially beautiful out, the moon is full, and the—..”

 

“With all due respect, Guanlin, I know you too well,” Jihoon interrupts. His eyes are serious and firm. “You would not have called me out for something like this so abruptly if it weren’t of the utmost importance.”

 

For a moment, Guanlin wears an impressed look on his face. He grins before chuckling, shaking his head at his words. “So observant, Jihoon. No wonder you’re an assassin. It makes me wonder how you never knew that I had been on to you all that time.”

 

_ I had my guard down back then,  _ Jihoon thinks to himself. Since then, it’s been reestablished, and he does not intend on letting it down once again.

 

“What is on you mind, Guanlin?”

 

The amusement on the king’s face dies suddenly, and he lets out a sigh, leaning over the edge of the gazebo. He looks out into the distance, and he seems to be pondering his words. Jihoon watches as he bites his lip in contemplation.

 

“Do you think I am brave, Jihoon?”

 

The question takes the assassin by surprise. He blinks a little before stepping closer, furrowing his brow at Guanlin. “Come again, Guanlin?”

 

“Am I brave?”

 

Jihoon does not know how to respond. He just stares long and hard— does he think the king is brave? In the face of adversity, he has only seen him keep his cool, work through it all with a clear mind…. He knows nothing of the king’s bravery, except…

 

“You told an assassin to kill you on the spot,” Jihoon comments. “I think anyone else would have been begging on the spot.”

 

Guanlin chuckles at this, and Jihoon notices his cheeks turning pink then. The sight makes his heart tighten a little, and when Guanlin looks at him, he thinks it might burst altogether.

 

“Only because I knew you wouldn’t do it. Perhaps if it were someone else, I would have been begging. But I am not afraid of you.” 

 

Jihoon should be offended. Guanlin has practically just criticized his legitimacy as an assassin, yet all he can do in response is laugh, shaking his head at his words. “You trust me then?”

 

Guanlin nods. “I do. But you still did not answer my question. Am I brave?”

 

The king’s persistence in the question is alarming, and Jihoon thinks for a moment, studying Guanlin’s face. Is he looking for reassurance? Compliments? The boy is not the type to shallowly seek praise from others, so Jihoon doesn’t think that’s it. Perhaps… He’s having insecurities as a king? The role is pressuring, no doubt, but Guanlin has never once faltered in his duties, despite the difficult tasks and harsh criticisms that often came with it. Is this Guanlin opening up to him about how he truly feels about all of it?

 

“What are you thinking, Guanlin?” he asks instead, narrowing his eyes at the taller boy.

 

Guanlin ponders, biting his lips nervously as if debating whether or not he should tell Jihoon something. When he finally does look at him and speak, the words make Jihoon’s eyes widen in shock.

 

“Jihoon… Run away with me.”

 

“W-what?”

 

Guanlin has always been full of surprises, Jihoon thinks. From his first introduction to the boy, to the surprising turn of events during his actual assassination attempt, and now…

 

Running away. Jihoon doesn’t understand. If there’s one thing Guanlin has never shown, its weakness, fear, and vulnerability, and yet… Yet here he is, asking Jihoon to run away with him.

 

And then he gets it.

 

Sixteen. That is Guanlin’s tender age. At only sixteen, he’s watched his parents fall, ascended to the crown and has had to deal with massive pressures that no sixteen year old should have to deal with. The struggles are perhaps relatable to his own upbringing, but at least Jihoon has means of defending himself. Guanlin’s own military has conspired against him and has planned out a his own death. Of course Guanlin would be afraid. 

 

Yet all this time, he’s been so brave and strong. Jihoon has never once seen him complain about his duties, carrying them out without hesitation, no matter how tiring or difficult. Not only that, but Guanlin has utilized his authority as king fairly, giving discipline where discipline is due, and praise where he sees fit. He’s an ideal king, yet Jihoon still pities the position he’s in, being forced to grow, yet still so young and fearful of the world around him.

 

“Jihoon? Did you hear me?”

 

Guanlin’s tender voice breaks him free of his thoughts. He blinks up at the younger before swallowing hard. The king’s eyes are full of so many things— fear, worry, doubt… Jihoon’s heart thumps in his chest, and overwhelmed with his own emotions, he lunges forward, wrapping his arms tightly around the other’s neck and holding him close.

 

He hugs Guanlin hard, arms tight around him, squeezing him to his own body. He wonders if the other can even breathe, but Jihoon doesn’t care, only wants Guanlin to understand his heart, understand how he feels.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, swallowing hard. He can feel Guanlin tense in his arm, but he only continues with his words. “I’m sorry that I never realized how hard all of this must have been for you. That you had to go through all of this alone.”

 

Guanlin gasps, but he doesn’t speak. Jihoon takes it as a sign to continue, finding his voice, his own bravery so he can at least reassure him that he isn’t alone… Not anymore.

 

“I’m sorry you had no one by your side.. You felt scared all this time, but you couldn’t show it, could you?”

 

The king responds with a gasp, nodding his head a little. Jihoon rubs his back then, humming softly to him.

 

“I’m here for you,” he breathes softly. “I know it’s hard, but you’re so brave, Guanlin. So brave and so strong. I believe in you.”

 

Guanlin whimpers then, and it’s only a brief moment before he’s wrapping his arms around Jihoon too, squeezing him close and burying his face into his shoulder. Though he’s taller and in a much higher ranking than him, Jihoon feels that he is the older for once. Guanlin is absolutely vulnerable right now, and to have him in his arms, to feel all of the weight on his shoulders suddenly pack on to his as well… Jihoon is both burdened and proud. He wants Guanlin to trust him, to be Guanlin’s support in times of doubt and hardship.

 

“I am scared,” Guanlin finally confesses. “What if I mess up? Will my kingdom fall? Will my subjects turn against me? They already have… How long before I am take. out like my parents? There are many things to be afraid of, Jihoon…”

 

“Of course there are. Which is why I cannot blame you if you do choose to run away,” he whispers, closing his eyes. “I will join you if that is what you really wish to do.”

 

Guanlin pulls away then, loosening his grip on the older. He blinks down at him in surprise. “Really?”

 

Jihoon nods firmly. “I will follow you anywhere you go.”

 

The king beams brightly then. The ecstasy on his face is radiating, bright, and Jihoon hates to have to open his mouth and ruin all of that, but he’s not quite done with what he’s got to say.

 

“But—..” he begins suddenly. Guanlin’s face sullen immediately, and Jihoon eyes lock firmly with his. “I believe you can do this, Guanlin. I’m sure it is hard, your people need you to be their king. Perhaps it is not what you wish to do, but it is indeed what you were born to do.” 

 

Guanlin frowns then, but it is not one of disappointment. Rather, he knows that Jihoon is right, that no matter how much he would like to run away from all of this… It truly is not that simple. Jihoon knows that Guanlin is aware of it. 

 

He takes Guanlin’s hand then, squeezing it as he looks up at him brightly. “You’re so young, but you’re more than capable of ruling over your people. And if you choose to stay here… Then I promise to be by your side no matter what. I will protect you, and I will give you strength when you are most in need of it.”

 

Jihoon has never been good with words. He’s better with his hands; they’re good for killing, comforting, loving… But even so, he hopes that his words have made an impact on Guanlin’s decision. He watches as the smile spreads upon his lips, and it gives him hope that perhaps he has changed the younger’s mind, that he will indeed stay here to fight his demons, along with the demons that reside in his palace.

 

He nods then, and Jihoon’s heart swells with happiness. “Okay then. I will stay. But only under one condition.”

 

“Oh?” Jihoon smiles softly. “And what is that?”

 

Guanlin takes both of Jihoon’s hands then, squeezing them in his. The sudden action takes him by surprise, especially as Guanlin intertwines their fingers together, smiling widely at him and leaning in close.

 

“When this is over, you will become my queen.”

 

Now, it’s Jihoon’s turn to go silent. He blinks up at Guanlin— he couldn’t have heard him correctly, right?  _ A queen?  _ Jihoon isn’t even female, and even if he was… Is it okay for someone like him to take the throne? He panics a little, words catching in his throat.

 

“Guanlin, I don’t think…”

 

“Of course you can,” Guanlin reassures. “All that you have promised… Is that not what queens do? They protect their king and stay by their sides… I wish for you to be that person for me.”

 

Jihoon remains speechless, and he suddenly wonders if perhaps all of this had been a part of Guanlin’s plan, too. Smart, cunning Guanlin. While he does not doubt that his earlier insecurities truly had been how he felt, Jihoon knows that his conditions have long been set. The king is far too clever.

 

He laughs quietly to himself before he finally looks up at Guanlin again, giving his hand a squeeze. “How about this. We defeat Jongsuk first and weed out any other potential traitors to the kingdom… then  _ maybe _ I’ll consider becoming your queen.”

 

The response seems to be enough for Guanlin, because he nods in agreement, offering a bright smile to his advisor. “Deal. Jihoon?”

 

“Mmm..?” he hums softly.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Jihoon just silently smiles, standing on his tippy toes to press a gently kiss to his king’s lips. 

 

—

 

A banquet.

 

That is the plan to get rid of Jongsuk, and while it is not the best plan, it is the only plan that Jihoon can come up with on such short notice. He does not have much time before Jongsuk really begins to doubt him, perhaps removing him from his mission altogether, and so he decides that the banquet is the best course of action.

 

Luckily, the king has one coming up. A one month celebration of his coronation, with plenty of guests coming from all over the kingdom. Like this, Jihoon can be certain that he will not be the prime suspect in the general’s death, though Jongsuk’s allies will still likely be suspcious. He’ll deal with them later, Jihoon decides.

 

An hour before the event is slated to begin, Jihoon sits in waiting for the king, at the edge of his bed while he gets his robes fitted by his servants. He trains himself to be calm and patient— this is of course not his first kill. 

 

But this  _ is  _ the first time he’s had so much to lose. Most kills were over within minutes with no repercussions to suffer. Jihoon knows that so much can go wrong, win or lose. All he can do is hope for the best in this situation, and pray that he can keep Guanlin safe.

 

Just then, the king enters without warning, door sliding open ever so slowly. Jihoon looks up then, standing respectfully. As Guanlin approaches, he bows his head.

 

“I already told you not to do that,” Guanlin laughs. 

 

Jihoon chuckles as well. “I’m sorry. It feels wrong not to do so.”

 

“Well don’t. You have no need for that.” Guanlin tilts his chin up, and Jihoon’s cheeks turn red. He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand how the younger man can turn him into such a blushing mess so easily. “You look so beautiful tonight. As always.”

 

The compliment only serves to make Jihoon’s cheeks tint an even darker shade of red, growing fuller as he is unable to hide his bashful smile. He rubs behind his ear before humming quietly in response. “You too, Guanlin. You look so beautiful. As always.”

 

The smile that spreads over the king’s lips is so bright, that for a moment, Jihoon is blinded. His heart aches with affection for the other, it’s practically unbearable for the assassin to handle.

 

“Before we go,” Jihoon begins, turning to his nightstand. Upon it, two glasses of wine sit upon a golden platter. The deep red liquid sloshes around as Jihoon picks them up. He hands one to Guanlin, and the king takes it without a hint of hesitation. “A toast. To us. And tonight.”

 

Guanlin grins. He holds the glass up high, and Jihoon does the same. “To us then. And to tonight.” 

 

Their glasses clink together briefly, both both bring their glasses to their lips, allowing the sweet taste of wine to fall upon their tongues. Jihoon savors the taste himself, but all the while, he watches the prince out of the corner of his eye, watching closely, waiting…

 

Guanlin brings the glass away, and only a little has been consumed. A minute passes, and his cheeks are still rosy, but Jihoon watches as the color slowly fades away. 

 

The king starts to cough then. Mildly at first, but his cough grows rougher with each passing second. He reaches out to Jihoon for support, and Jihoon immediately complies, trying to keep him upright, even as he feels the other start to lose his balance. He leads Guanlin to bed, lying him down carefully as his face pales, eyes wide with shock, fear, and everything in between.

 

“J-Jihoon--” Guanlin chokes out, a hand wrapping tightly around his arm, unwilling to let go. Jihoon carefully lies his head on the pillows before brushing his hair back, humming softly.

 

“I know, my love, I’m sorry,” he whispers. Then he leans down, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to his forehead. “It’ll all be over soon, I promise.”

 

Seconds pass, and then the king is closing his eyes. Jihoon feels his heart stop, his breath still, and his hand’s grip loosening from around his arm. He takes that hand and squeezes it gently before he finally lets it go.

 

Jihoon stands then, staring down at Guanlin’s lifeless body. He stares blankly, blinking at him once, twice, before he finally departs, quietly shutting the door behind him.

 

—

 

“General, you must come quick! There has been an emergency!”

 

Advisor Park comes running up to the general quickly, and as he stops in front of him, he is short of breath, sweat dripping from his brow. There is a glint in Jongsuk’s eye as he looks down at Jihoon curiously. “What is it, Advisor Park?”

 

Jihoon looks up at him; there is a flash of urgency in his eyes, and as he speaks he nearly allows tears to spill. 

 

“The king has been murdered.”

 

At his words, Jihoon watches the general’s eyes light up. He does his best to restrain himself, but he can tell that the words that leave his mouth bring nothing but triumph, excitement to the man before him. “How, may I ask?” 

 

“Poison,” Jihoon responds darkly.

 

“Ah, I see,” Jongsuk hums. He feigns a look of sadness before it disappears altogether, and he is immediately back to business. “In that case, I will need to check up on him. I’ll have my men send home the guests immediately. Please wait for me in my study in the meantime, Advisor Park.”

 

Jihoon nods before scurrying off, and Jongsuk watches him go. He should tell his men first, that’s the best course of action. But he’s far too excited for that. Eagerly, he starts making his way to the king’s room, his heart rate picking up with every step. 

 

He has waited for this for so long, and Jihoon has finally pulled through. For a while, he had doubted the young assassin, but tonight… Jihoon has finally proven him wrong.

 

As he approaches the king’s room, he stops for a moment, allowing himself to calm, to take a breath before he finally opens up.

 

The sight before him is marvelous. The young king lies in his bed, and to anyone, it would appear that he is sleeping. But Jongsuk notices the lack of breath, the way his chest does not move as he sleep.

 

Lai Guanlin is dead.

 

Jongsuk grins triumphantly.

 

—

 

Jihoon waits patiently in Jongsuk’s study for the general to return as promised. As celebration, he sets out two glasses of wine, pouring them out as he waits. Tonight… Tonight had been a long time coming, but it’s finally come together, and Jihoon couldn’t be any more excited.

 

By now, Jongsuk’s men have gone about clearing the palace of guests. He had peeked out to watch them exit the dining hall, some of them in confusion, and some of them in panic. They get no explanation, but at least Jihoon knows. He’s able to relax in peace because of it, lounging in Jongsuk’s study until the other finally arrives. 

 

Jongsuk looks ecstatic when he arrives. He grins wide at Jihoon as he stares in disbelief. “You really did it, Park Jihoon. I can’t believe you did it.”

 

Jihoon stands then. He offers a smile that’s just as arrogant as Jongsuk’s. “I told you not to doubt me. That I had a plan, and it would work. so simply needed time… And the king’s absolute trust in me. It worked. And like a fool, he loved me. Like a fool, he died because of it.”

 

The words make Jongsuk chuckle. “You are as brilliant as they say, Park Jihoon. I will have your reward prepared by tomorrow, and you can be out of this place as soon as you like.” 

 

It’s nice to be praised, Jihoon thinks, even if it’s from Jongsuk. Hearing it from him feels weird, oddly forced, but… It means something still, and to hear it makes his chest swell with pride. “Thank you, sir. I’m glad to have served you well. Before we end tonight… Shall we have a toast?”

 

That’s when Jihoon offers the glass of wine to Jongsuk. He holds it up delicately between his fingers, and the older man blinks at it questioningly. For a moment, Jihoon thinks he might resist it, but he ends up taking it anyways, holding it high in the air like Guanlin had, hours before. 

 

Jihoon takes the other glass and raises it too, and with Jongsuk’s approval, he tilts the glass back, taking the tiniest sip from his cup.

 

Jongsuk, however, does not. He motions to take a sip, but just before the red liquid can touch his lips, he suddenly pulls away, looking over at Jihoon once again. 

 

“Tell me how you did it.”

 

Jihoon swallows his wine before blinking in response. “W-what?”

 

“How did you do it?” Jongsuk asks, stepping closer, a sinister grin on his lips. It makes Jihoon’s skin crawl. “Poison, I know. But I want to know how you got him to drink it… How you managed to get him to be so vulnerable for you.”

 

At this, Jihoon stutters a little. “I… I made his fall in love with me. Trust me. And then I poisoned his drink. He took it only minutes before we were meant to come down for the banquet.”

 

“Ah…” Jongsuk hums. “The king must be truly idiotic if he had missed the signs of that one.”

 

Jihoon nods in agreement, taking another sip of his wine as Jongsuk continues.

 

“But then again, anyone would be idiotic if they were to miss the signs of being poison.”

 

And then Jihoon freezes.

 

“For instance,” Jongsuk grins. He presses his wine glass next to his, comparing them for a second. “Look at the slight variation in color here. It’s not very noticeable, but if I were to add this…” The general pulls a small coal from his pocket then. He opens it up before dropping a sliver into his glass. Jihoon watches it change color, from a rich wine to a distilled pink, nothing at all like its original color. Jongsuk hums at the change. “If I am to add this, then the wine will change color if poison has been added to the drink.”

 

Red flags suddenly go off. Jihoon’s breath catches in his throat as Jongsuk eyes him, narrowing them at him as he sets the wine glass aside, stepping into his space. The assassin gasps, his glass falling to the floor and shattering, red wine spilling over the carpets.

 

“How long before the king wakes from his temporary death?,” Jongsuk snarls. He wraps a hand around Jihoon’s throat, and his eyes go wide as he’s pressed helplessly to the wall, the general’s hand crushing his windpipe. “I knew you couldn’t do it. At the beginning, I thought that perhaps it was you who was foolish. Foolish for falling in love with the king too, and foolish for thinking you could try to fool me into thinking you could still carry on with this mission.

 

“But I guess I was the foolish one for having hope that you had actually pulled through tonight.”

 

Jongsuk’s words filter helplessly through Jihoon’s ears. Instead, he focuses on his breath, taking in what little oxygen he can with the hands wrapped around his throat.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jihoon spots it. A rather heavy looking vase that sits at the corner of Jongsuk’s desk. He’s not sure of the damage that it will have, but it’s better than dying like this, letting Jongsuk choke him out until he can’t breathe anymore.

 

Desperately, Jihoon scrambles for the vase, and as soon as he gets a firm grip on its mouth, he swings it hard, slamming it straight into Jongsuk’s skull. It shatters into pieces that scatter all over the floor. 

 

A loud scream can be heard. Jongsuk drops Jihoon then, and he slides to the floor, taking only mere seconds to catch his breath. The situation at hand is urgent, and he doesn’t have the leisure time to waste, so he crawls even though things are still hazy, and the room still spins around him.

 

Jongsuk growls, and before he Jihoon can go any further, he feels a hand curl around his ankle. Jongsuk drags him backwards, and Jihoon yells helplessly, kicking his feet as the general turns him over and pins him to the ground.

 

“You’re such a nuisance—” Jongsuk snarls, trying to pin the assassin’s hands over his head. Jihoon manages to free one, however, and he immediately snatches a sharp shard from the vase and hastily lodged the piece into Jongsuk’s neck before tanking it right out.

 

The general screams. He releases his grip on Jihoon, hands flying immediately to his neck in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. Jihoon pushes away from his grip, breathless and still dizzy from it all. 

 

While Jongsuk is still distracted, Jihoon stumbles to his feet, pushing out of the study and making his way back to Guanlin’s room. He runs, runs as fast as he can and prays that Guanlin is still alive.

 

As he turns the last corner, he’s met with guards, and not just a few of them. Several block his path, and as Jihoon skids into the hallway, he captures their attention, all eyes suddenly focused on him.

 

His survival instincts kick in then. As guards charge him, he charges back, waiting until the front two come within striking distance before sliding into the gap between them. While they maintain their momentum, Jihoon swiftly turns and grabs the back of their collars. There’s a brutal cracking sound as their skulls smash together, and their bodies fall into a heap on the floor.

 

Another guard comes at him immediately after. Jihoon easily gets back to his feet, ducking underneath the slice of his sword. He continues forward, then slams a foot against his back. A sickening crunch can be heard as he join the others on the floor, and Jihoon moves on to the next.

 

_ Guanlin _ , Jihoon thinks.  _ I need to get to Guanlin.  _ His mind spins with thoughts of the younger as he makes his way through the guards, rendering them all incapacitated one by one. By the end of it all, the hallways is nothing but a pile of unconscious bodies. Jihoon is breathless as he reaches Guanlin’s door, but with no time to waste, he slams the door open anyways, stumbling forward and  _ hoping  _ that no one has reached the king before him.

 

But of course, as he enters, he finds that, with no luck, Guanlin is indeed not alone. Jongsuk has somehow beaten him to the king, and with the blade of his sword pressed firmly to the unconscious king’s throat, Jihoon knows that the bastard had been waiting for him, wanting to watch him fall apart as he took what mattered most to him right in front of his eyes.

 

“No!” Jihoon cries, and Jongsuk just laughs maniacally. The wound in his neck has been poorly treated, likely by himself, Jihoon thinks. The blood has already seeped through the gauze, and Jongsuk seems so sickly pale that he might pass out at any moment. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that he has Guanlin in his hold, threatening to end his life at any moment.

 

“It’s over, Advisor Park,” Jongsuk taunts. “I’m going to do what you  _ never  _ could’ve done… What you should’ve done but were too much of a coward to do.”

 

Jihoon remains unmoving, eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. If he moves, he’s afraid that Jongsuk with kill Guanlin right then and there. And if he does nothing, he’s sure Jongsuk will still do the same.

 

“Don’t worry,” Jongsuk hums. “I’ll kill you too, so you can be together. After all, can’t have you telling the rest of the kingdom that it was me who took the king’s life. A murder-suicide seems probable, don’t you think?”

 

Jihoon swallows hard. “Jongsuk, you don’t have to do this,” he tries to reason.

 

“You’re so stupid,” the general snarls. “This is all I wanted. You couldn’t give it to me, and so I’ll do it for myself.”

 

Just then, Jihoon watches as the boy in Jongsuk’s arms begins to stir. His brow creases first before he groans lightly, eyes opening and adjusting to the harsh filter of light. Jongsuk notices too, and the grin on his face widens as he realizes that the king has awakened.

 

Guanlin’s unknowing eyes meet Jihoon’s panicked ones. “Jihoon..?” he mutters in confusion. Jongsuk presses the blade of his sword sharply against his neck, and Guanlin gasps— suddenly he’s wide awake and aware of the situation he’s in. But he’s helpless, and as Jihoon watches Jongsuk tighten his grip on his sword, Jihoon starts to panic.

 

“Stop this… You don’t have to do this,” Jihoon pleads, his eyes locked with the general’s as he begs for his king’s life. He doesn’t even notice the way that Guanlin slowly starts to slide his robes up, reaching for something that’s strapped against his thigh. The king, despite how distraught he may be, manages to get a firm grip on the dagger that Jihoon had given to him. In the midst of Jongsuk’s own madness, he manages to slip it free, and without thinking, he plunges the knife back, aimlessly, hoping for the best.

 

The dagger makes a disturbing squelch as Guanlin stabs it into the general’s side. Jongsuk screams and drops his sword in his pain. 

 

Guanlin scrambles free then. But Jongsuk does not give in so easily. As the king attempts to free himself from the other, Jongsuk moves to pick up his sword again, chasing after him as he stumbles away, still disoriented with the remnants of poison in his system. Jongsuk closes in, but Jihoon… Jihoon is faster.

 

With Guanlin no longer in the general’s arms, he quickly paces forward, seeing his opening clear as day. This is his chance to end it all, to save Guanlin, and to free himself from Jongsuk’s command. 

 

Determined, he charges forward with a growl, immediately capturing Jongsuk’s attention. Before the general can react, however, Jihoon closes in and rips the dagger from his side. Jongsuk screams in pain, but unrelenting, Jihoon stabs the weapon into his chest.

 

Jongsuk doesn’t scream then. Rather, he goes silent, voice catching in his throat in his shock. Jihoon shudders as he watches his eyes go wide, the sword in his grasp clattering to the floor. It’s eerily quiet, and Jihoon has this terrifying thought that it isn’t over yet, even as he pulls the dagger from his chest, watching the blood pool out, spilling all over his robes.

 

Jongsuk grins. It sends chills down the assassin’s spine, even as the other starts to go cold, his legs losing balance as he begins to slip to the floor. He’s got a grip on Jihoon, though, so as he falls to his knees, Jihoon does too, sitting before him and watching in horror as the man before him bleeds out.

 

“You’ve won,” Jongsuk cackles, blood sputtering out of his mouth as he speaks. “At least… You’ve won this battle. I can assure you that this won’t be the last attempt on your precious king’s life. There will be many like me… Many like my men who will try oppose the king’s reign. I wonder how long you’ll be able to protect your precious king.”

 

And just like that, Jongsuk closes his eyes, takes his last breath and speaks his last words. He slumps forward after that, giving out in Jihoon’s arms. The assassin is sure to check his pulse before confirming it, gently lying his lifeless body to the ground before rising once more and turning to Guanlin.

 

The king stands at the other side of the room, looking over at Jihoon with a wild expression in his eyes. He still looks rather shaken up, breathless as Jihoon nears him. Comfortingly, Jihoon presses a hand to his cheek, and Guanlin manages to choke out, “I-is it over..?”

 

Jihoon nods softly, offering him a gentle smile. “I… The worst part is, yeah.”

 

Guanlin sighs then, leaning into Jihoon’s touch and cradling his hand in his. “He’s right, isn’t he? This certainly won’t be the last time I’ll have to deal with betrayal in my kingdom, or attempts on my life.”

 

“Hey…” Jihoon whispers softly, pushing his cheek a little so that Guanlin faces him. “Listen… It might not be the last time, but remember my promise? I’ll always be here to protect you, no matter what.”

 

Guanlin grins softly at that, leaning forward to press his forehead to Jihoon’s. “Actually,” Jihoon laughs. “Maybe you don’t need my protection all that much. After all, you were able to incapacitate Jongsuk all by yourself, hm?”

 

“Only because of you,” Guanlin hums in response. “If you hadn’t given me your dagger… I don’t know what would’ve happened. Guess you really are protecting me all the time, aren’t you?”

 

With that, Jihoon seals his lips against Guanlin’s. The kiss feels like a seal of victory, a reward for the long battle that they’ve fought together. And while it may not be their last battle, Jihoon is at least certain this reward…  _ This  _ will always remain the same.

 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 

“Jihoon… Jihoon, wake up.”

 

Sun has filtered through the windows of Jihoon’s bedroom already, but he does not want to get up just yet. His body still feels fatigue weighing it down, and as the sun’s rays shine over his eyes, he groans loudly, turn away from it.

 

“My love, wake up,” Guanlin whispers ever so gently.

 

“I don’t want to,” he whines, burying his face into a pillow. Except this pillow feels exceptionally firm and fleshy, and as Jihoon opens his eyes, he finds that he’s actually gripping Guanlin’s thigh, the king looking down at him in amusement.

 

“You’re so wonderful,” Guanlin hums, running his fingers through Jihoon’s hair. “I know you’re tired, but you must wake. Today is the day that the new general is sworn in, you know.”

 

“Mmmm, oh well,” Jihoon whines simply, cuddling into Guanlin’s thigh. “I’m sure that man is nothing special.”

 

Guanlin laughs then. “Nothing special? Well… The general-to-be has saved my life on numerous occasions, I wouldn’t consider him ‘nothing special.’”

 

Jihoon just huffs, making no more remarks. Instead, he opens his eyes slowly, blinking up at Guanlin as he trains his eyes to get used to the filter of sunlight into the room. It’s no use, however. Guanlin’s smile is sunlight all on its own, and Jihoon finds himself blinded anyways. 

 

“Come on, Jihoon. Get up. Aren’t you excited to be sworn in?”

 

Jihoon could have never predicted this kind of life for himself. A poor boy from the slums turned assassin; an assassin turned military general… And the king’s partner too. The change is somewhat overwhelming but… It’s something he can grow used to with time, he thinks.

 

Still, the responsibility of becoming general is somewhat a heavy weight on his shoulders. It would be a lie to say that he isn’t at least a little worried that he won’t do his job as expected, or that he’ll face heavy criticism as a result.

 

“I am, but..” he finally answers, eyes shifting away from Guanlin’s as he nervously bites his lip. “I’m also afraid that I will not live up to people’s expectations.”

 

“Park Jihoon,” Guanlin speaks firmly. He tilts his chin up a little to make him face him once again, and as his eyes piece his, Jihoon finds that he can’t look away. “You will be a brilliant general. I trust you to lead our military with great skill and intelligence… Otherwise I would have not asked you to take the position in the first place.”

 

“Of course,” Jihoon hums. “I do not doubt your judgment, Guanlin, it’s just.. Just my own insecurities that I’m dealing with, I guess.”

 

“Do not stress too much,” Guanlin hums. He strokes Jihoon’s cheek gently, and the older feels his heart calm a little with the embrace. He finds that Guanlin always knows how to make him feel better when he overthinks too much, or when his own stress and uncertainty gets in the way of his perception. “I believe in you, Jihoon. You will be great.”

 

The words make Jihoon’s heart swell with happiness. If Guanlin believes in him, then that is all Jihoon needs.

 

—

 

Jihoon is never the one to keep Guanlin waiting for royal events. Usually it’s Jihoon that waits patiently in his room as Guanlin gets dressed by all of his servants, and hardly ever is it the other way around.

 

Except for today. Today, Guanlin has his servants attend to Jihoon instead. An intricate robe has been designed especially for today, a deep blue color that matches with Jihoon’s glowing skin, with soft patterns running throughout its design. His hair is styled neatly, and every inch of his is perfected, his sword hanging proudly from his side.

 

It’s strange to not feel the weight of his dagger upon his thigh, but he feels comfort in knowing that Guanlin has it instead.

 

When he’s all finished, Jihoon makes his way out, his steps heavy as he makes his way to the king’s room. He’s not sure why he feels nervous; Guanlin has seen him on numerous occasions, and has complimented his appearance countlessly and relentlessly. And yet, his heart beats with excitement as he nears his room, opening the door with a shy smile on his face.

 

The king stands immediately. His eyes are wide as he takes in the older’s appearance, scanning him from head to toe, a smile spreading over his lips as Jihoon stands directly before him, looking up at the king.

 

“You look… Beautiful. As always,” Guanlin says softly, leaning in to peck Jihoon’s cheek. Jihoon blushes, letting a soft chuckle escape his lips.

 

“You too, my king. Beautiful, as always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this short Panwink two shot! 
> 
> talk to me on twitter: http://twitter.com/wannabyui  
> ask me things on curiouscat: http://curiouscat.me/wannabyui  
> follow panwink week on twitter: http://twitter.com/panwink_week

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on twitter: http://twitter.com/wannabyui  
> ask me things on curiouscat: http://curiouscat.me/wannabyui  
> follow panwink week on twitter: http://twitter.com/panwink_week
> 
> Thank you for reading, stay tuned for the second part soon!


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